


Day Twenty-Two: Burned

by OBlossom



Series: Febuwhump 2021 [22]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: FebuWhump2021, Found Family, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, IronDad and SpiderSon, Parent Tony Stark, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, alien attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:13:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29655987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OBlossom/pseuds/OBlossom
Summary: He could barely find the breath to scream as the fire receded, though the flames licking at the edges of his scorched suit still burned, and he dragged the man toward the only exit he could barely see through the smoke with the last of his strength.  He stumbled and fell forward, and thought this was the end, only to be caught in the arms of the fireman who would pull him and the man to safety.Peter was barely aware of the people surrounding him—them... the man? The man was being pulled away and Peter was being strong for him and then he was gone and all Peter knew was pain in its purest form. He was the pain. No part of him existed save for it.He didn’t hear Ms. Romanoff screaming over the comms for Mr. Barton to run faster—get the quinjet there NOW!He didn’t hear Mr. Stark threatening to kill the next person to try and take the mask off as he waved around the sidearm he would wear under his suit.He didn’t hear anything because he was flame and fire—
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Febuwhump 2021 [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138958
Comments: 2
Kudos: 140
Collections: febuwhump 2021





	Day Twenty-Two: Burned

**Author's Note:**

> I am looking forward to a nap on March 1st- is all I'm sayin'.
> 
> Enjoy.
> 
> -Colleen xo

Day 22: burned

“I’m just gonna say this,” Peter piped up, “It sure is nice to know that there are people on this planet that have the sense to run for cover when alien lizard men attack your town.”

“True story!” Mr. Stark exclaimed as he dragged his Iron Man suitcase along beside him. “I’d say I blame the NYC tourists but... yeah.” 

Peter, still in full garb gave him the side-eye. “Are you sure you don’t want me to carry that for you? It’s really nothing for me, sir,” he offered for the second time.

“Pfft. Do you hear that, Clint?! He calls me old and then expects me to back up his insult by allowing him to carry my totally not too heavy armour.” Mr. Stark lamented.

“I never called you old, Mr. Stark!” Peter replied.

Mr. Stark stopped in his tracks and pointed a finger at the kid. “Did you or did you not call me ‘sir,’ Spider-Man?”

“You know I did!”

Mr. Barton snorted.

“And I rest my case, your honor! The kid thinks I’m old!” Mr. Stark flailed around in mock exasperation, and then continued on toward the quinjet. “I’ll carry my own suit, thank you very much—even though it’s practically scrap now.”

That suit was actually why Mr. Stark, Ms. Romanoff, Mr. Barton, and Peter were walking down the abandoned Main Street that ran through the center of Broadbury, New Jersey; home of Joe’s Garage & Gas & Convenience Store & Diner... well, maybe not anymore? The town proper had actually managed to come out of the attack pretty unscathed save for Joe’s, which was still on fire, but it was only the Diner end and it looked to be burning low. An alien powered knock by one of their lizard nemeses had messed with Mr. Stark’s power distribution, though. Within minutes of the hit, he’d received an alert that he needed to exit the suit or risk needing to be cut out of it. 

... and without the suit, they didn’t have the scanning capacity to confirm that all hostiles had been dispatched and that the town was safe.

The quinjet however was wholly capable...

Sirens could suddenly be heard in the distance.

“And that would be the cavalry!” Mr. Stark joked. Yes, Damage Control would come in and help out in the end, but that didn’t mean they let the world burn. Just before his suit had shut down, Mr. Stark was calling in the neighbouring townships’ volunteer fire departments. Broadbury, New Jersey would be fine.

Mr. Barton grinned once he heard the approaching trucks. “Sweet! You know, if we double time it to the quinjet, we can be back in time to sneak in some pizza and a couple of movies before the Spider-baby here,” he gave Peter a playful shove, “needs to be home for bedtime.” 

Ms. Romanoff smiled, “That sounds fun, but I’m picking the movies, tonight.”

Mr. Stark and Peter knew better than to argue with her. Mr. Barton, however, couldn’t contain the whine. “But Nat, you always pick stuff with subtitles!”

“Yes, Clint, it’s called exposing the baby spider to culture.”

Peter stopped walking abruptly, “Guys, wait. Did you hear that?”

Of course no one else heard a thing, and with the suit offline, Mr. Stark couldn’t even pretend to try and help. 

Peter raised his hand to stop their rustling. “Shhh.”

“heeeelp.” The call was so weak, it was no wonder the others couldn’t hear it... and it seemed to be coming from Joe’s.

“Shoot, guys! There’s someone over at Joe’s!” He gestured to the building. “I’ll be right back, okay?” 

He was off before Mr. Stark could holler out a “Be careful!”

They were all mother hens, and he told Mr. Barton and Ms. Romanoff as much over the comm. 

“Enough with the sass.” She called out. “Focus and get the job done. It’s a fire and you never mess around with it.”

Peter had helped with enough fires in the city to know exactly that. “Yes, ma’am.” He replied, and then searched for a safe point of entry.

The diner seemed to be the place to be, and so Peter called out as he entered the smoke filled but flame free part of the building, “Hello?! Can you hear me?”

Peter heard a weak cough, but no actual call for help. He had to hurry.

“Hey! I’m coming! Just hang on!” he yelled out, and crossed through the diner into the small attached convenience store. He wondered offhandedly if the aliens had made their way in here and they’d missed it, ‘cuz Peter could tell that the building was trashed even through the smoke. Twinkies and cases of Gatorade and those little white powdered donuts were messing up the entryway, but he leapt over them all easily enough. “Hello?! Can you make some noise?”

Peter heard another cough on the opposite side of the room, closer to the entryway to the garage... and the fire. 

Shit!

Hey! I’m here, buddy! I’m coming!” The heat was becoming uncomfortable, especially when coupled with the smoke. It hadn’t looked that bad from the outside, had it?

“Ms. Romanoff! What’s the status of the fire?”

She replied immediately. “It’s looking pretty much burnt out from where I’m standing, but that doesn’t mean anything.” She paused, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he replied as he tried to move a large, industrial metal shelf while keeping lower to the ground. “But tell Mr. Stark we’ve gotta work on a better-- *cough*-*cough*-- air filtering system for the *cough* suit.”

“Will do, Spider-Man. Just hurry.”

Peter did, and within ten seconds had found the man trapped under another metal shelf. The man was nearly unconscious and Peter was starting to struggle to breathe a little more, but that didn’t stop him from reassuring. “I’m here, buddy *cough*-*cough*-- gonna get you outta *cough* here.” 

He’d never be exactly sure how it happened, but as Peter moved the shelf trapping the now unconscious man, another shelf toppled and shattered an exterior window. His spider-senses flared like the fire around them and Peter was throwing himself over top of the man he was determined to save.

He could barely find the breath to scream as the fire receded, though the flames licking at the edges of his scorched suit still burned, and he dragged the man toward the only exit he could barely see through the smoke with the last of his strength. He stumbled and fell forward, and thought this was the end, only to be caught in the arms of the fireman who would pull him and the man to safety.

Peter was barely aware of the people surrounding him—them... the man? The man was being pulled away and Peter was being strong for him and then he was gone and all Peter knew was pain in its purest form. He was the pain. No part of him existed save for it.

He didn’t hear Ms. Romanoff screaming over the comms for Mr. Barton to run faster—get the quinjet there NOW!

He didn’t hear Mr. Stark threatening to kill the next person to try and take the mask off as he waved around the sidearm he would wear under his suit.

He didn’t hear anything because he was flame and fire—

* * * * * *

On a regular day, the distance between Broadbury, New Jersey and the compound would be approximately ten minutes, if Clint really meant it.

Today, he did. Clint made it in five and a half.

Everyone was afraid to touch him, so they didn’t save for the removal of his mask within the safe confines of the quinjet and to place a nasal cannula for oxygen once he’d been positioned on his belly on the stretcher.

They’d never been more grateful to watch the boy lose consciousness. 

While Peter was unconscious, his teammates sat brief vigil—none of them were devout to any type of faith, but only a higher power could be responsible for someone as wonderful as Peter, and that was who Tony, Clint, and Natasha prayed to.

* * * * * *

They landed and within seconds of the landing gear hitting the roof of the compound, SHIELD medical staff were flooding the plane and tending to the boy. He was transferred to a gurney and was on his way down the ramp and on his way to Helen Cho... and thank God for her and the absolute providence that placed her in New York in the first place. 

She’d sent a nurse out to update the lot of them approximately forty-five minutes after they’d entered the room. Their group had grown to include Steve, Sam, Bucky, and Wanda once word had gotten out that the Spider-kid was down.

None of them reacted when she disclosed that seventy percent of his back had been impacted by the flame. Second and third degree burns and months and months of pain and surgeries and grafts were in the cards for that precious boy, depending on... 

And May was at a nursing conference in Virginia and out of contact until 9:30pm.

Tony was the secondary emergency contact and Peter’s alter-ego’s medical power of attorney, so when Helen Cho came out looking to discuss Peter’s care after a few hours of nothing, he was it. 

She looked tired, but satisfied when she spoke. “He’ll be fine.”

It was like a puppet whose strings had been cut— the relief was palpable.

“We’ve just finished debriding his back and, because Peter is still a minor, we need a guardian’s permission to go forward with treatment.”

Most of the superheroes paled. 

Steve muttered a quiet, ‘shit.’

Helen smiled in sympathy. “Yes, it was a lot, and unfortunately Peter woke up during the worst of it. We did give him his painkillers, but as with non-enhanced individuals, it can only bring so much relief. Now, we need to discuss how we are going to progress in his treatment.”

Tony cocked his head in confusion, “What is there to discuss? You do what you need to do to fix him. End of story.” He looked back at his teammates, where they all stood nodding in agreement. 

“It’s that there are two options here, Tony. We have an enhanced teen so the standard option isn’t one— that would be the multiple surgeries, etc. Now what I’d like to do is use the Cradle but—“

Tony jumped in, “Do you have the Cradle here? I thought you were keeping at your lab in Seoul?” 

“I do have it here. It was why I was in New York in the first place... I would—“

Again, Tony didn’t wait for her to finish. “Use the Cradle, Helen. The boy shouldn’t have to suffer for doing the right thing.”

Relief washed over Helen’s face. “Thank goodness! Okay, I’m going to head back in to prep him for the procedure.” She then addressed everyone present. “The treatment will be at least a few hours. You may want to head up to your quarters and shower and clean up.” She knew how much the boy was cared for. “I will send out an update when everything is done. Trust me. We’ll take good care of him.” She smiled once more and headed back into the treatment room.

Tony looked at his team, all exhausted for the waiting and doing nothing. “Alright, folks, you heard the good doctor. Everyone head out and grab a shower if you stink like Clint, or something to eat or whatever. Just take a break. We’ll all be here for the next couple of days I’m sure, so let’s just take a breather while we can.” 

Clint grumbled about not smelling bad, Steve mumbled something about making his Ma’s soup so it would be ready for the Spider-kid, and all the rest filed out one after the other... except for Tony. 

Tony stayed and waited.

* * * * * * 

Tony called Pepper to fill her in on the chaos and she promised she’d be at the compound first thing in the morning to help out with whatever they’d need. She was awesome that way.

He’d also managed to get ahold of May shortly after midnight. A quick drink with friends had turned into a girls’ night so Tony was sending Happy out with his private jet out to collect her first thing in the morning so she could grab some sleep before she entered the fray. Peter was stable, and there was no need for her to stress about finding a way back so it just made sense.

It was an hour after that when Helen popped her head out into the waiting area and scanned the room. She saw Tony, pointed to him, and then spoke, “Come with me. He needs you.”

Tony was up and moving before she’d finished demanding. Nothing would keep him away.

She talked as they walked down the short corridor to the treatment rooms. “We’d just finished up with the Cradle when we were moving him to a bed to rest. Everything was fine—is fine. We wanted him to take a few steps, just to get the circulation going and,” she put a hand out to stop Tony from entering the room. “It’s my fault. I didn’t take into account the energy he burns through when he heals and he ended up passing out.”

Tony was about to panic but Helen put up her hand to stop him.

“He’s fine! We’ve got him in bed, but we’ve put in a nasogastric feeding tube and he was a little upset. He’s calm now, but we thought you might be able to cheer him up.”

Grateful that he was being recruited for support squad and not something more dramatic after the long day they’d had, Tony gladly accepted the task and walked through the door—only to stop short at what he saw. 

It wasn’t gore or anything like that. Not at all. Peter was laying on his stomach on one of the med bay beds. The tube that Helen had mentioned was in and a bag of nutrient sludge was hanging from a hook next to the IV bags of saline and antibiotics and the like. It wasn't the oxygen. It wasn’t even the exposed pink skin, freshly grown on the kid’s back.

No. Tony always seemed to forget how small Peter was—for the huge presence he was out in the world and even as a part of the team, he was still a gawky sixteen year old boy trying to find his place.

“Hey, Mr. Stark,” the boy whispered, interrupting Tony’s thoughts. “I told them you didn’t need to come in. I figured you were probably asleep so...” he trailed off.

Tony pulled up one of the rolling stools and plunked himself down. “Nope—I was waiting for my favourite Spider-Baby to finish playing with the cool kids,” he gestured to the medical staff around them. “And now I just get to hang out with you for the boring part.”

“Boring part?”

Tony smiled softly, “You know, the part where you close your eyes and sleep part?”

Peter smiled back sleepily. “Oh, that part.”

“Yeah, so you can close your eyes now. The scary stuff is over and now you can rest or make a list of movies without subtitles to force Nat to watch—Hell. I may even let you order a pizza with pineapple on it without giving you grief once you’re outta here.” Tony gave him a playful wink.

“That sounds nice, Mr. Stark... but, um... I like the movies with subtitles.”

Tony laughed, “Of course you do, ya’ brat!”

Peter chuckled along, then grew serious. “Mr. Stark? Did the man make it? The one from the fire?”

Tony hadn’t needed him to clarify, but was embarrassed by his response. “I’m gonna be honest, Pete. I hadn’t given him a thought.” No. Tony had been too busy worrying about him. “Why don’t you go to sleep and when you wake up, I’ll have some information for you, okay?”

Peter nodded cautiously. Some of the new growth kissed at the base of his neck and Tony was sure it felt strange.

“Don’t worry about it, though. He looked pretty okay when I last saw him.” He got up and leaned over, planting a soft kiss on the side of Peter’s head. “You did so good, kid. Now take a break and let the ‘B’ team worry about things for a while.

Peter nodded again, and closed his eyes. “Thanks, Mis’r Stark. You’re the best.”

Tony ran his fingers through the boy’s curls as he fell asleep, thinking to himself, “No, Petie, you are.”

* * * * * *

Peter had just fallen asleep for the night after a couple of false starts. Tony was going to do the same once the staff brought in a recliner, but when Nat and Steve came to the med bay room door, Nat clutching a manila folder, he figured it was a lost cause.

“How is he?” Steve asked as Tony approached them.

Tony smiled. “He’s gonna be fine. I think we’ll have some issues to deal with it, but I’m gonna talk to Sam in the morning and figure some things out.”

Steve closed his eye for a second and nodded. Perhaps it was a prayer of gratitude? Tony would never know, but he was grateful, too.

Nat interrupted then. “I know it’s late, but we just found out how Michael ‘Joe’ Hanlan is doing, and thought you’d appreciate the update.”

Tony saw the look on Nat’s face, and cringed. “I’m not so sure this is news I want to hear.”

She looked frustrated and angry, two combinations that were never good on her. “The fire marshal headed over to the site shortly after we left. There were some concerns that with a team member of ours being hurt, that we’d need all the relevant information for our reports as soon as possible.”

Tony was imagining that he looked as confused as he felt. “That was mighty considerate of him?” 

“It was, and I was especially appreciative of the fact that they’d already moved quickly to arrest Mr. Hanlan for arson once they found the gas cans.”

Tony straightened. “Excuse me?”

Nat just shook her head. “Apparently Mr. Hanlan saw the aliens and decided that now was the time to cash in with Damage Control and get the hell out of Broadbury, New Jersey. He and the stripper he met in Atlantic City during his last gambling binge were already planning to head to Vegas for a fresh start when this opportunity literally came out of the sky. He was apparently shoving over some shelving to add to the ‘level of authenticity,’” she air quoted, “when the shelf fell over unexpectedly and he ended up trapped and hurt.”  
“He’s hurt?!” Tony inquired.

Steve took this question. “Yeah, he ended up with a pretty bad sprained wrist from when he topped the shelving, a mild concussion from when he hit the floor, and of course, the smoke inhalation.”

“...And our Spider-Baby is growing himself some fresh flesh for the effort to save the scumbag.”

Steve smiled and shook his head. “You know that won’t make a difference to Peter, right?”

Tony scowled at the truthfulness of the statement. “I know.”

And Tony really did, because already, the kid was better than them all.

**Author's Note:**

> I am less upset with this one.
> 
> Day twenty-two is finished.


End file.
